


nothing like a broken arm to win your love

by twicejinxed



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Anatomy Study, Blood, Broken Bones, Drugs, Fighting, Hurt/Comfort, Idk what I’m doing I just love these good boys, M/M, My first loz fic sooooo, Praise, Protective Prince Sidon, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Sign Language, like literally magic, made up elixir, magic mushrooms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29960778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twicejinxed/pseuds/twicejinxed
Summary: Link bites off more than he can chew and ends up with a severely broken arm, leaving him to recover in the Zora domain under the watchful eye of Prince Sidon.He's not good at staying still.
Relationships: Link/Prince Sidon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	nothing like a broken arm to win your love

Link was still getting to know himself. Obviously his past was a dense fog punctuated by vivid splinters of snapshot memories. Beyond that, he was still trying to figure out _who_ he was. His likes, dislikes, interests. The pieces of an identity normal people who hadn’t just woken up from a hundred year coma didn’t have to think about.

First, he’d had to recognize his own signals. The pounding in his chest and warmth in his face when he rode a horse were definitely positive signs. The scent of baked apples, the feel of sunlight on his skin, the shiny gems he chiseled from rocks and caves--those were all definitely on his “like” list. As for dislikes...

He couldn’t stand the smell of Hobgoblin guts (nor any other monster parts, but those especially stood out). He didn’t like the cold. He’d heard there were parts of Hyrule so hot, he’d need special gear or potions to get through, but even that seemed preferable to sliding around the icy mountains, sucking in cold air through his teeth. 

Most recently, he found that he didn’t like running from a fight he thought he could win. He thrived in the pure thrill of conquering an enemy, be it by arrow or sword or speed or wit or, occasionally, soup ladle. It was more than an addiction. Glory and gore sang in his bones. He was born for this, brought back to life for this.

He still had much more to learn, or relearn. 

Still basking in the afterglow of his victory against the Waterblight Ganon, Link had bolted straight back to the Lynel’s domain for some unfinished business. He’d forgotten to take a picture to show the female Zora who’d asked him so kindly. 

Just a picture seemed too easy, he thought as he stood behind a tree littered with fresh electric arrows. He took out his sheikah slate and zoomed in on an enormous figure on the darkening horizon. Not the best picture, but he snapped a shot just in case, remembering his tendency to forget about photography in the heat of the moment. 

Link patted the frost blade on his hip and prepped his bow with an electric arrow. Surely, the head of the Lynel would be a far better prize than a blurry picture. He cracked his neck and stretched his arms, more like a runner preparing for a race than a knight preparing for battle. After the Waterblight Ganon, how hard could one Lynel really be? 

It only took a few near misses and one strike from the Lynel’s mighty crusher to force Link to reconsider his confidence level. 

The first shot had been his doing, and the image of the great beast writhing from the power of his lightning arrows only emboldened him more. He leapt up to a boulder and pulled out his frost blade, hoping to take the Lynel by surprise. He didn’t.

The Lynel swung his jumbo crusher, twice the size of the Hylian himself, pummeling the boulder to a pile of pebbles. Link jumped just in time, and the rest of the fight became a game of hide and seek. Battling the Waterblight Ganon was no doubt a heroic trial, but Link had more at his disposal then. Out here, facing a monster faster and stronger than a whole hoard of Lizalfos, with little left in his sheikah slate to help him after his time in the Vah Ruta, he had to admit he may have been out of his league. 

The Lynel swung again, and Link felt a ringing in his ears as he backflipped out of shot. 

“Link, be careful,” a soft, familiar voice called.

Mipha’s blue apparition manifested, blessing Link with the gift of revival. Had he already reached the brink of death? Had the hit connected? 

One near miss was all it took? 

Ok, maybe he was really in over his head. He dashed behind a tree, took out his sheikah slate, and checked the blurry picture he’d taken.

Dammit, if he was going to run away without taking a prize, he might as well get a decent picture. He scrambled up the tree, crouched on the highest branch, and threw a stick toward the Lynel, who’d already begun walking off, figuring Link for dead (Link noted for his next attempt that he didn’t seem too intelligent). When the stick didn’t stir him, he put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.

That worked. 

The Lynel turned, head cocked, searching for the source of the sound. Link whistled again and threw another branch. That may have been unnecessary.

The beast galloped toward him, weapon raised. Link held up the sheikah slate camera, squinting like a professional photographer aiming his shot. He waited until he was close enough to see the fading sunlight reflecting in the monster’s glassy eyes. 

Before he could admire his own photography skills, he felt himself tossed to the ground as crusher and tree connected. He tucked the slate against his chest and rolled to the side just as the mighty sword split the earth in two.

He jumped to his feet, ready to sprint. Then another idea entered his head. He opened the slate and traded his sword of frost for one of fire. 

Last chance, he figured, holding up his flameblade and shield.

Unfazed by his tiny foe, the Lynel raised his crusher once more. Sparks flew as he struck Link’s iron shield. Link grit his teeth. That was almost a parry. He _almost_ had him.

Almost was not enough. 

Before he could react, the Lynel sent him soaring through the air with one strike. He landed, mere inches from the cliff’s edge, with a spray of dirt and grass. He lay dazed, struggling to right himself. His right arm, having darted toward his belt, now bent against him at an odd angle. He tried to flex his hand. Bolts of electric pain shot up his arm. Left hand it was then. 

Hearing the Lynel’s booming hoofsteps, he hastened to retrieve his slate and swipe through what was left of his stocks. A few apples, some stealth potions… little too late for that. 

That was how he learned another facet of his personality: he was a bit of a reckless idiot. At times. 

So this wasn’t a total loss, he thought as he swiped to the map. Now he knew what not to do. And he knew it was likely he’d still do it again. 

His biggest regret was not being able to flip his middle finger at the Lynel as he disappeared. 

Bazz had been thinking about his future dinner when he heard a splash louder than a hot-footed frog coming from the Ne’ez Yohma shrine. He stepped forward, eyes catching on a shape too large to be a child Zora but far too small to be an adult. 

“Master Link!” 

The Zora guard rushed into the small pool of water, trampling over lotus leaves, and lifted the fallen Hylian as if he were a bushel of rice. Link, eyes barely open, drifted toward unconsciousness, his brows knit together in pain. Bazz assessed his condition, noting his mangled arm. He didn’t know a lot about Hylian anatomy, but the contorted angle didn’t seem right. The scent of blood drenched his senses, sent his head spinning. 

He needed to get him to a healer. 

“Link? Link, stay with me!” 

As if in stubborn refusal, Link’s eyes shut completely. Bazz rolled his eyes.

“Come on, really?” 

He breathed through his mouth, trying to escape the intoxicating scent of fresh wounds. Who could he take him to in the domain? Who would know how to treat a Hylian wound? 

At the very least, he knew of one Zora who would be furious if he found out how long he’d stood around with the bleeding hero in his arms.

“Prince Sidon!” he called, running up the domain stairs as fast as he could without jostling his damaged passenger. 

The prince wanted to know when, where, why, how, and he wanted to know now.

“I picked him up as soon as I found him, your highness,” Bazz said, eyes diverted. 

He didn’t fear Sidon, but he was a bit overtaken by his sudden intensity. As if in the heat of battle, the prince had strictly ordered his guards to immediately locate a waterbed and someone who knew Hylian anatomy. The first had been easy to locate. 

Link lay on the bed in what looked like an uncomfortable position, his injured arm curled against his side, his Zora armor coated in red and brown. Only Bazz and Sidon remained in the room, the rest of the party on a seemingly impossible search. 

Sidon paced the room impatiently, stopping by the bed and appearing to ponder whether he should move the man’s body, what to do about those muddy clothes, what to do about… 

He stiffened and took a step back. 

“He’s bled,” he observed, eyes unblinking.

Bazz nodded. It was in the past tense, thankfully, his flesh wounds having somehow stopped stopped bleeding by the time he reached the palace. But the blood was still there, crusting his armor, coagulating in places they couldn’t see. 

Bazz didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until a motion by the door drew his attention away from the copper scent. 

The line of Zora guards parted to reveal a familiar elder Zora. 

“Ah, as expected,” Dento shook his head, taking in the sight of the unconscious Hylian. 

“You do know I’m not a healer,” he told rather than asked the prince, whose eyes had not left the hero. 

“But you can fix this, yes,” Sidon also told rather than asked, gesturing toward the bed. “You fixed the Lightscale Trident.” 

Dento rose an eyebrow. 

“Hylians and Tridents are not one in the same. But yes, I still have some useful knowledge from the old days.” 

He moved to Link’s side, placed his hand against Link’s bruised and swollen flesh. The hero groaned in his deep sleep. The old Zora looked oddly content. 

“That’s a good sign,” he noted, then turned to the prince. “I’ll need several ingredients not found in the Zora domain.”

“Anything you need, my guards can retrieve at once,” Sidon reassured him. 

“This may take some time.” Dento bent forward to observe Link’s fracture more closely. “It’s not an ordinary fracture. I suppose he put the Lynel to the test without thinking it through.” 

Sidon looked straightaway to Bazz, expecting an answer.

“I don’t know, sir. He appeared at the shrine this way.” 

“Not surprising.” 

The elder Zora stood and brushed his hands. 

“I’ll tell you both what I need to repair what’s been done, but, in the meantime, he could stand a bath and a fresh set of clothes.” His nose wrinkled. “He reeks of old blood.” 

Sidon nodded, preparing to order his guards to draw a bath, then hesitated. 

“How can we… how can we be sure we don’t hurt him?” 

Bazz had never heard his voice tremor before. 

“Ah, I did come prepared for that.” 

Dento reached behind his belt and retrieved a vial of iridescent liquid. 

“Dreamcaps,” he explained. “Give him a sip when he wakes and he won’t be in pain. Just don’t overdo it. One cap-full.” He tapped the top of the bottle before handing it to Sidon, who held it above his head and watched it shimmer in the torchlight. 

“When will he wake up?” Bazz asked. 

Sidon looked almost bitter for having not asked first. 

“I suspect any moment now,” the elder said. “You’ll forgive me, Prince Sidon.” 

He snatched Link by his dirty blonde locks and pulled, dragging his eyelids up and revealing his cyan irises. 

Bazz, knowing the prince would be ready to pounce on the old man, pressed his hand against Sidon’s chest in warning. 

“Wake up, Master Link! You’ve made a mess of yourself again.” Dento laughed, letting the hero crash back against the bed, eyes now wide with confusion. 

He sat up, then gasped in pain, staring down at his limp arm in disbelief. 

“He’s yours now, until you’ve found what’s on this list. Then you can call me again.”

Dento left the handwritten list with Bazz, since the prince had already run to Link’s side. 

“Link, are you okay, my friend? You’ve hurt yourself quite badly!” 

Link closed his eyes and groaned, struggling to stay upright. 

“One capful,” Dento warned as he departed back through the wall of Zora guards. 

Sidon examined the vial again. He’d never taken dreamcaps before. It was rumored to be highly addictive. To grant a feeling of bliss so intoxicating, you’d beg for more. 

Link groaned louder this time, upper teeth nearly biting through his lower lip. 

“Link!” Sidon grasped his friend’s jaw, prying it open. 

It looked rough, but Bazz thanked him for it. The one thing they didn’t need now was fresh blood throwing them into a tizzy. He jumped up to place the grip of his spear in Link’s jaw, giving him something to bite down on as Sidon poured a capful of dreamcap elixir. He dripped the shiny liquid down Link’s throat as he gnawed on Bazz’s spear, and both Zora watched in fascination as the man’s jaw soon unhinged, head hitting the water pillow, eyes capped in sudden bliss. 

Both Zora males stood back, making certain they hadn’t accidentally killed their patient. Link, however, only looked over-pleased, broken arm still clutched close to his chest but legs stretching out in relaxation, left arm pulling at the damp armor ensnaring his skin. 

“Link!” Sidon drew to his side, grasping his tiny left hand in his claw. “We’re taking care of you, my friend.” 

Link blinked blearily, taking in Sidon’s form. He tugged slightly, and Sidon instantly let go of his hand. 

_S-i-d-o-n_

He signed, much slower than his usual fast flowing fingers. 

“Yes, that’s right! And Bazz!” 

Sidon leaned back to let Bazz wave awkwardly. 

Link squinted, his mouth opening to form words his voice couldn’t supply.

 _Thanks_ he managed to sign with his functioning hand.

“No problem, friend.” Bazz cleared his throat. “Er, Master Link.” 

“Yes, thank you, Bazz,” Sidon smiled. “Now, if you could do us one more favor.” 

He nodded toward the list in Bazz’s claws. 

“Yes, of course, your majesty.” Bazz bowed. 

Sidon directed the rest of his demands toward his servants.

“Could you draw a bath, hot, please? I’ve found Hylians prefer much warmer water, so if you find it too hot, that would be perfect. And perhaps a hot stew, the more stamina the better, but do use rock salt. Our friend likes his fish salted.”

He smiled even as he spoke to his underlings. He could not help but charm everyone he spoke to, Bazz thought. 

What was it like, he wondered, to be the object of such a passionate man’s desire? Bazz supposed he’d ask Link, one of these days. Preferably when he wasn’t high on mushrooms.

**Author's Note:**

> the lynel failure is based on how I suck at videogames  
> everything in this fic was concocted by me at the last minute. I wish dreamcaps were a thing in the game. 
> 
> title comes from jesca hoop


End file.
